


Moving Forward

by BrokenBookAddict



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 1x06, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Partners to Lovers, Philinda - Freeform, Romance, Scars, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenBookAddict/pseuds/BrokenBookAddict
Summary: Sometimes you have to live in the moment and not worry about what's to come. Sometimes, despite everything, it's about taking a chance.1x06.





	Moving Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: obviously I do not own Marvel's Agents of shield. 
> 
> I love episode tag fics and this moment in 1x06 left the door wide open.

"Do you know how long it's taken me..."

"I know."

"The point of these things, is to remind us, there is no going back... there's only moving forward." May pauses, swallowing down her emotions as she glances once more at his scar. Her eyes lift back to his. "You feel different because you are different."

The words linger between them and they seem to have an effect upon him. His eyes shine like he's holding tears at bay before he shakily nods.

Her eyes drop away from his, back to the large scar on display through his partially opened shirt. The words she had spoken were true and she meant every one. The words however don't take away from what the scar represents for her though. It represents sadness and pain, heartache and a numbness she remembers acutely after hearing the news from Maria. Losing him that way had been awful, losing him anyway would be awful but more importantly she hadn't been there to _protect_ him. Her world crumbled with the knowledge that he was gone. _Phil was gone. _Her best friend and partner, _gone_. Memories of that first night are still fresh in her mind, she remembers the mixture of feelings ranging sharply of anger, of grief, of needing an outlet for it all and her apartment had taken the brunt. She'd destroyed nearly everything in sight.

Everything had been a mess not including her home. The funeral came and she had to stand by as they lowered his coffin into the ground. The man she loved. She had stood back holding in her own anguish as another woman openly mourned for the man they both loved. 

Then a few days later of existing in a world where she wouldn't ever receive a rambling call from her best friend, came the call from Fury. Her world tiltled further and the feeling of disbelief, of joy, was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of nausea. Despite her feelings she couldn't... they had him back and once fully briefed, she couldn't fault Fury's decision even in the face of the actions he'd taken to accomplish it. Phil was alive and that was all that mattered to her. 

She had her friend and partner back.

Even now though, that feeling of nausea remains like a heavy reminder of her part in this whole debacle. Having to lie to him, having to report back to Fury...but despite the consequences it is a small price to pay to have him standing before her. It's incredibly selfish she'll gladly admit but she doesn't care. Everything has been and will continue to be about him, about keeping him safe. The simply reason is she loves him, even if that has to remain unsaid. They've been through so much together, Bahrain and his death, every other little moment that has lead them to this point. 

During her whole thought process about what this scar represents for her, her hand had slipped inside the shirt opening, the palm of her hand flat against his skin, covering the scar. She can feel the reassuring beat of his repaired heart beneath her touch. Her eyes flutter closed and she allows herself to gather comfort from it. It's only a few seconds later when she feels the sensation of his hand closing around her wrist drawing her back to reality. Eyes open to find his, so vulnerable still but so intense and focused solely upon her. 

Immediately the air shifts between them and in the back of her mind, a warning sound echoes that danger approaches. In this moment she knows she is about to do something she shouldn't, to cross a line long drawn if she doesn't pull away, so she does. Slowly she slides her hand out of his shirt and from his hold. Taking a step back away from him, distancing herself. She wants to wish him goodnight, to tell him to get some rest but the words won't come. So she turns away without another word or gesture, heading for the door to leave. Her hand barely touches the handle before his own suddenly appears over her shoulder, pressing against the door to keep it closed. She can feel the heat of his body behind her, so close but just not close enough. She doesn't turn to face him, not yet. Whatever this is, it's his move to make, the ball's in his court as they say.

Coulson drops his hand from the door, taking the smallest of steps to close the remaining distance between them, pressing himself against her back.

May tenses at the initial contact before allowing herself to relax. She keeps her breathing even not betraying how his close proximity is effecting her. Her eyes flutter when his fingers brush her hair aside. His head rests against hers, his breathe ghosting across her skin.

"Help me move forward... I need you to help me."

There's an underlining plea to his words that she can't ignore or deny, even if she wanted to. God, she wants to help him, of course she does, however she isn't sure this is the best way to do it. Despite how much she wants to. It could make things messy, he has command over the bus, it could risk their friendship, the secret she holds... she doesn't want to risk losing him from her life. 

His head shifts, burying his face into the crook of her neck. The sensation of his lips against her skin make her already crumbling resolve weaken further. The feel of his hands burn through the material at her hips where he holds her steady. Taking a moment, she turns in his embrace to bring them face to face, chest to chest.

"We shouldn't do this," May tells him quietly and as firmly as she can possibly manage, a thousand reasons why backing up the words.

"No," Coulson shakes his head, "we shouldn't." However, despite voicing his agreement, he can't seem to stop touching her. Actions which contrast his words. 

"I should walk away."

"You should," he says almost resigned, like he expects her to do just that before something sparks inside of him to contridict that. "But you won't." Maybe that spark is hope.

But he's right, of course he is. 

"No, I won't." It's surprisingly easy to confirm what he seems to already know, even if every fibre of her being screams that this will only make things worse, ten fold, when he finds out the truth about his death. Selfishness though, pushes the worry aside, telling her to focus instead on the here and now. To _live_.

Coulson moves his hands to cup her face. "Because you want this... you want to move forward too, with me." It's not asked as a question but said rather like a statement. 

"Yes."

Almost as soon as the word leaves her lips is he covering them with his own.

It's familiar and strange at the same time because they've kissed before but never like _this. _Before had always been a cover for whatever front was needed for the mission they were undertaking. This is different because it's just them, no pretence, just Phil and Melinda.

Coulson moves her backwards until he has her pressed against the closed door. His mouth is soft under hers but sure. His kiss begins slow before urgency creeps in, his need slipping through. His kiss turns desperate, his tongue sliding into her mouth and May accepts it all without any hesitation.

There's no room to think, only to feel and take in what's happening between them.

_To live in the moment of moving_ _forward_....

When his hands begin to wander and explore so do her own. She matches his every action with her own. There's no need to stop and question where this is heading because they've waited long enough that they just know. Everything happens so quickly from there. Clothing is ripped away and discarded carelessly to the floor. They move as one from the door across the room until the reach his couch. Coulson sits and drags her down onto him, skin against skin. She straddles him easily while finding his mouth. Her kiss is slow as his hand moves between them to slide between her thighs, finding her centre. His fingers find soaking wet heat and he groans against her mouth, his thumb brushing over her clit, again and again.

"I want to taste you," he whispers between kisses.

It's an enticing idea to have his face buried between her thighs but no, not now. She's wanted this for such a long time, waited and hoped that this would happen and she refuses to wait any longer now that they're finally here. She needs to feel him inside of her. "Next time," she says shaking her head as she reaches between them to take hold of his length. Meeting his gaze, she lifts herself up and guides him into place.

The eye contact between them never falters as she sinks down onto him.

Maybe it's irresponsible, maybe they're out of their heads in lust but they don't stop to think about protection. It's reckless. 

May sighs as she takes him in, his cock stretching her deliciously. She's thought about this moment she'll admit to herself and the reality is all the more better. Nothing can compare to the feel of him.

Coulson pants as she envelopes him into her tight, wet heat. She feels beyond anything he could have imagined.

In the dim light of his office aboard the bus, May starts to move, riding him slowly. The air around them begins to fill with the smell of sex, the sounds they make as they move together finding their rhythm. Trying to remain quiet is difficult; ragged breaths, whimpers and moans slip free despite their team downstairs.

Leaning forward Coulson's mouth closes over her right breast, his teeth and tongue paying due attention to the sensitive nipple, before switching to her left. His hands rest, one at the small of her back guiding her movements while the other curls around her nape. When he pulls away from her breast, his gaze is heavy with lust and love, pupils blown, nothing hidden. The look is enough to make her come undone. She slides her fingers into his hair, cradling his head as the other grips the back of the couch, anchoring herself as she leans forward once more to kiss him. She can't seem to stop kissing him. The steady and slow motion of her hips pick up.

Time rolls away from them with every roll of her hips, every reason and concern why this is maybe a bad idea falls away. Everything falls away leaving just them in this moment. Nothing else matter for now, except this connection between them, both physically and emotionally. They've made their decision, taken the step to move forward together. This, _making love_, with Phil is unlike anything she's ever experienced before, every sensation, every nerve ending feels heightened, fire races through her veins. She moans low, slides down harder onto him. "Phil..." her voice breaks on his name, an edge of desperation edging in.

She's allowing her walls to crumble, letting the agent fall into the darkness of the background and allowing Melinda into the light. It's freeing in a way to just feel, to surrender to the moment and to him. She can't even begin to remember when that last happened, probably before Bahrain. 

Coulson takes note through his own haze of pleasure, tightening his hold on her as he tips them sideways until she's under him. He breaks rhythm for a fraction of a second, fingertips gentle against her face as he stares down at her before he pulls his hips back only to slide back in, _hard_. Then he does it again and again... and again.

"Fuck--" the expletive slips free and she sees him smirk down at her. Even as she narrows her eyes at him, she commands, "like that."

And he does exactly as she commands, driving into her harder, faster, deeper. Pushing her ever closer and closer until she's finally there. May comes with his name on her lips and he follows shortly after, the feel of her tightening around him to much. "_Melinda_\--" mixes with a groan muffled into her neck.

In the aftermath they remain locked together in their embrace, Coulson's face resting against hers as she runs a soothing hand up and down his spine. Minutes tick by in silence as they settle their racing hearts, calm their erratic breathing.

Eventually he lifts his head to stare down at her, fingertips gentle as they trace down her cheeks to cradle her jaw. The gesture seems far to intimate despite their current position. _He's still buried inside her for God's sake._ His eyes hold an intensity that's almost overwhelming, filled with tenderness and _love_. She couldn't drag her gaze away even if she wanted to, he holds her hostage.

This man is everything to her, right from the very beginning, it's always been him, through everything, good and bad.

"Thank you." 

May frowns up at him, her hand pausing at his back. "Why are you thanking me?" 

"For everything," he says quietly, looking shy at the admission. "You came out of that cubicle for me, you've had my back, for this..." 

Guilt settles in the pit of her stomach and she swallows hard. "You don't have to thank me for that, for any of it."

His thumb brushes along her lower lip. "This has been something I've always wanted, to be with you." 

The look on his face and his words hit her hard. Her heart hurts. They've wasted so much time. "You should have told me." 

Coulson rolls his eyes. "I didn't think you'd want me to, I didn't want to ruin what we had." He chuckles low. "And I was a dork." 

At that, May smiles softly up at him. "You're still a dork." She sighs into his kiss when he drops his head down. "But I wanted it too," she whispers against his lips when the kiss breaks. It feels good to say that out loud after so long. "I want it now." 

"Well..." he looks surprised by her admitting so then shakes his head. "What matters is we're here now." 

"We are."

Her right hand moves to cup his face and he lifts a hand to cover hers, joining their fingers together as he moves his mouth to kiss her knuckles. 

"Whatever is to come, we'll face it together." 

His words mean everything to her and May can only hope that he means them, especially with the secret she holds close. She can't lose him now, not after this. Instead of trying to formulate some kind of response, she just kisses him. 

Focusing instead on the here and now, instead of what's still to come. 

The end. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you lovely readers for checking out this fic. It means a great deal having your support as I venture into writing for this pairing whom I simply adore. This is my 3rd fic and more is definitely on the way. Every comment, kudos and hit is deeply appreciated. Hopefully you enjoyed this instalment of Philinda, so until next time.... 
> 
> ❤


End file.
